


run away and hide with you

by dexdefyingstunts



Series: soft and sweet [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Incest Kink, M/M, Medical Kink, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Omega Tim Drake, Plushophilia, Praise Kink, Pseudo-Incest, Sex as a medical treatment, Touch-Starved, not quite slavery? but omegas being treated as property
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-25 20:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexdefyingstunts/pseuds/dexdefyingstunts
Summary: Bruce discovers that Tim's pack hasn't been taking care of his needs.Somebody should really do something about that.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne
Series: soft and sweet [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121015
Comments: 56
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! This is the beginning of the story for my weird BruTim a/b/o verse! This fic will deal with the early days of Tim joining the bat pack. Tags will be added/updated for the upcoming chapters.
> 
> Note: This story is going to deal with socially normalized pedophilia and incest. Bruce is an adult and Tim is about 13 when our story begins. Their interactions will be considered normal in the society they live in. The author does not condone any of this behavior in real life. This is not a depiction of a healthy relationship. If that sounds like a dark place that you don't want to go to, I completely understand, and please feel free to skip this one. If you do decide to come along for the weird, fucked-up ride, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title is once again from "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood, because of reasons

There’s something wrong with Tim.

It’s a nagging thought, and Bruce can’t seem to stop having it.

He’s in the cave, working on files at the computer. It’s so late it’s swung back around to being early, and Bruce really should have gone upstairs an hour ago. Alfred will give him that disapproving look in the morning and make pointed comments about his health.

The files aren’t even that pressing, really. It’s just that working on a different problem helps Bruce work on the first problem, and the first problem is deeply troubling.

There’s something wrong with Tim. Something very wrong.

Tonight’s patrol had gone fine. No major incidents. Nothing that Bruce would have expected to cause intense stress or an adverse reaction in Tim.

 _But how would you know that?_ asks a nagging voice at the back of Bruce’s head. _What makes you think you know all of that boy’s triggers? You didn’t ask him. There could have been something you didn’t notice. And you don’t know. Because you didn’t ask him_.

Bruce sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Back to the facts. Tim had been up to his usual high standard during the patrol. The pup is certainly perceptive, and quick to think. They’d gotten back to the cave, Tim had changed back into civilian clothes, and he had been… off.

Tim had been sort of jittery. Full of nervous energy, shaking his leg. He’d curled into himself, one arm wrapped around his own waist. His fingers kept curling back and forth on the fabric of his shirt, making this aborted little gesture like he kept trying to reach out and then stopping himself. Once he took the uniform off and Bruce could smell him again, there was this persistent little sour tinge to Tim’s scent.

All the hallmarks of omega distress.

It’s a ridiculous thought. Tim’s a well-taken-care-of young pup. There’s no reason to think he’d be suffering from lack of pack bonds, from the sort of instinctive ache driven inwards that can drive deprived omegas to do desperate, dangerous things.

_Desperate, dangerous things like confront the Batman? Like insist on becoming a masked vigilante, even when you know exactly how that ended for your predecessor?_

Bruce had asked Tim if he was alright, and the boy had just nodded, looking somewhere into the middle distance. Bruce had sent him home, slightly earlier than usual. A pup in that state needs their pack more than they need anything. Bruce knows that comfort from his own alpha will do more to soothe any burgeoning omega distress Tim might be experiencing than Bruce ever could.

And yet.

There’s something wrong with Tim.

Bruce wants to go see what it is.

 _He’s not yours_ , a different voice in Bruce’s head whispers. _He has his own alpha, you don’t get to claim this one. He doesn’t belong to you. He’s not yours to protect or to comfort._

Bruce frowns heavily, staring into the dull, ghastly glow of the computer screen, no longer really typing away at his work, lost in thought. There’s an itch somewhere underneath his skin. He knows it would be an overstep. An intrusion. He’s Timothy’s mentor, not his alpha. He has no right to act like he is.

_And you can’t do that again. You can’t have another pup. Because then you’d lose this one too. Just like you lost Jason._

Bruce lets out a long, low hiss of air.

And then he stands up, grabs the cowl, and heads over to the Drakes’ house.

**…**

When he gets there, the big house seems quiet. Not terribly surprising, considering the hour. With any luck, Bruce will find that Tim has crawled into a family nest and is fast asleep, and the warm scent of pack bonds will have soothed away any unease Tim had.

The trouble with rich people’s houses is that there’s entirely too many windows to choose from. Bruce does more than a few laps, keeping his distance, melding into the shadows in the way he’s so practiced at. Eventually, he finds a window with signs of life behind it and peers in.

Tim’s in a nest.

That would be more comforting if it wasn’t clearly his own nest and not a shared pack nest. It’s in what must be Timothy’s bedroom, judging by the general debris, the desk in one corner covered in papers, the coffee mugs littered on every available surface. The nest itself is small. Not uncomfortably so, but certainly only sized for one person, with just a few cushions, and a curtain stretching diagonally off one wall. It’s somewhat haphazard in its placement, as though Tim did it himself. Besides the cushions, the nest is comprised almost entirely of stuffed animals. There’s at least a dozen of them that Bruce can see, various sizes of teddy bear and dog stuffie, one large one that’s like a round, cartoonish version of a cat.

And in the center of all of these is Tim. He’s curled up in the fetal position on one side, into the smallest, tightest ball he can possibly manage. His knees are tucked up all the way to his chest. He’s got both arms wrapped tightly around something. And he’s shaking. Tim’s face is tear-streaked, and he’s shivering violently in his sleep.

The realization hits Bruce’s chest like a shard of ice. Something _is_ wrong with Tim. Something is very, very wrong, and it wrenches at Bruce’s heart.

Bruce quietly opens the window and slips inside. He’s struck immediately by the smell. Or, more accurately, what he _doesn’t_ smell. There’s no alpha scent in Tim’s room. That in and of itself is deeply strange. This is Jack’s _house_ for godssakes. His scent should be everywhere, if he’s anything like most alphas. To say nothing of his own pup’s nest, which should be covered in the scent of a protective alpha. The absence is shocking, to say the least.

The other scent is Tim’s. It’s the milk-and-honey smell of an omega pup, with a little note like fresh strawberries that Bruce has come to recognize as uniquely Tim. But that sour, ugly smell is back, and it’s gotten much stronger. It’s a smell like pain and loneliness, a desperate, jagged ache.

Bruce creeps closer to Tim’s nest. As he approaches, he can see what Tim’s holding. It’s a man’s dress shirt, almost certainly one of Jack Drake’s, wrapped around a large dark brown teddy bear. It’s not hard to guess why- Tim took one of his alpha’s shirts for the scent, to have the comforting smell in the nest with him.

Still unconscious, Tim lets out another shuddering, gasping sob, and fresh tears run down his cheeks. He clutches as hard as he can onto the teddy bear with his father’s shirt wrapped around it, his knees jerking up into it as his legs twitch in his sleep.

Bruce is moving before he can think better of it.

He tugs one of the gauntlets off and reaches out a hand to touch Tim’s forehead. It’s sweaty and warm, but not feverish, thank goodness. Bruce pushes Tim’s thick, black hair back out of his eyes, then brings his palm back to Tim’s face, cradling the side of it with his bare palm.

The effect is almost immediate.

Tim’s body starts to relax, losing its tension, ceasing its shuddering and twitching. Tim falls lax under Bruce’s hand, and his breathing starts to even out and slow.

Part of it is the alpha pheromones in Bruce’s scent. The smell of a trusted alpha can work wonders on a distressed packmate regardless of designation. Part of it is the skin contact. All dynamics need human touch, but omegas more than any of them. Tim must be dying for it, if just the pressure and contact of Bruce’s hand can make him melt like this, sagging into the pillows and stuffies of his nest. He must trust Bruce more than Bruce had realized, if Bruce’s scent is enough to bring Tim back from such a place of panic and distress.

Bruce stays like that for a long while, perhaps half an hour, watching Tim peacefully sleep, now that Bruce is keeping one comforting hand on him, giving him the touch and scent he needs. It’s not everything a young omega needs, not by a long shot, but it seems to spackle over the worst of the distress for now. And it calms the worst of Bruce’s own protective instincts, which are all but screaming at him to protect the pup.

_Distressed omega pup keep him safe my pack keep the pup safe protect the pup my pup keep him safe-_

Bruce takes a deep breath, trying to keep his instincts under control, and looks at Tim’s small, fragile sleeping form. Tim nuzzles closer, nosing into Bruce’s palm in his sleep, an innocent move designed to seek comfort from his alpha.

It makes Bruce want to wrap the pup up in his arms, to steal him away and protect him and never let him go.

**…**

Unsurprisingly, Bruce finds himself in Alfred’s kitchen later that morning, pacing and ranting.

“It’s levels of omega distress like I’ve rarely seen,” Bruce says. His fists clench by his sides. “I don’t think his alpha’s actually touched him in _months_.” His voice nearly breaks on the last word, a telltale alpha growl sneaking into his tone that he just can’t keep a hold of.

Alfred is watching him carefully from where he’s standing next to one counter, mug of tea in hand. His scent is just as sour and displeased as Bruce’s own must be. “That’s an appalling way to treat a child.”

Bruce nods, his upper lip curling back in anger. “Someone should do something about it.”

It’s a dangerous thought to have.

In some ways, everything Bruce has ever done has started with that thought.

Alfred looks up at him, and levels him with an eternally knowing look. “And are you not someone, Master Bruce?”

Bruce closes his eyes and breathes out, a sharp tug of pain pulling through his chest. It’s not like Alfred doesn’t know what he’s asking of him. After- after Jason.

“Alfred, I _can’t_.”

Alfred tuts sharply. “Master Bruce. Young Timothy is already a part of this pack. Whether you continue forcing him to return to that empty house and despicably neglectful alpha or no.” Alfred sets his tea down on the counter, steps in closer and takes Bruce’s wrist in his hand, covering the scent glands there and squeezing down slightly. “Nothing we do in this life that matters is without its risk of loss,” Alfred says, firmly but not unkindly.

Bruce looks over at Alfred, and twists his arm underneath Alfred’s grasp, so he can grasp Alfred’s wrist as well, returning the scenting. Alfred’s old eyes are full of love, his scent full of pack-fondness and paternal affection, and the soothing, clean-cotton scent of Alfred’s beta pheromones. Bruce is unspeakably grateful for it, for Alfred’s wisdom, his kindness, his strength. When Alfred dies, it’s going to ruin him.

“I don’t know if I can help him,” Bruce says instead, getting the words out around the lump in his throat.

Alfred quirks an eyebrow. “That young man needs an alpha.” He gives Bruce a dry look up and down. “In what way are you unable to provide that?”

Bruce releases Alfred’s arm and steps away, looking instead at the blank wall of the kitchen. “He doesn’t trust me. He ran to his house to be alone, rather than let me touch him.”

Alfred tuts again. “Master Timothy is more perceptive than you give him credit for. Do you really think him unaware of your feelings on this?”

Bruce’s eyebrows narrow. “You think he wants to avoid being a burden.”

Alfred nods. “I think he knows what a difficult decision this is for you. He’s trying to avoid forcing you to make that choice.”

The anger is back again, and Bruce breathes deep as it flows through him, a pure protective alpha rage at the thought. “He’s a _child_. It’s not his responsibility to spare my feelings.”

“Quite,” Alfred replies, his tone just a touch acidic. “Perhaps you should share that opinion with young Timothy.”

Bruce lets out the smallest growl, but Alfred pays it no attention, merely going to fix another cup of tea.

Bruce sighs heavily. He might be avoiding it, but there’s really no question. He knows what he needs to do.

When it comes down to it, he doesn’t think he could have ever decided to do anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

Tim rolls over and hits something warm. He nuzzles into it sleepily, tightening his grip on the teddy bear he’s holding close to his chest. He’s not sure what it is, but there’s a nice texture against his face, like soft fabric. It smells good, too. Smells like safety, like pack. Tim’s eyes flutter a little bit, blinking hazily in the low sunlight.

“Shhhhhh, sweetheart.” There’s a low, dark voice, and it’s comforting, soothing. Tim feels a warm, heavy weight at the back of his neck, the feeling of a big hand resting there. “You’re alright now, pup. Hush now.”

 _Oh. I’m dreaming,_ Tim thinks hazily. _That explains it_. He tucks his face into the soft fur of his teddy bear and blinks his eyes a few more times before they fall closed, feeling heavy. He’s just so tired.

“Go back to sleep,” the voice murmurs softly. “Rest, now.”

There’s a sensation like movement, like Tim’s rising in the air, still wrapped tightly in a blanket, still tucked in close to the warm, good-smelling thing. But Tim’s already slipping back under, a warm darkness rising up to envelop him as he slips back into a deep sleep.

**…**

By the time Bruce gets back, Alfred’s already set up a room for Tim. There’s a bed down on the floor in one corner with fresh sheets on it, smelling of clean linen and of Alfred’s soothing beta lemongrass scent. Bruce sets Tim down on it, then goes about tucking all of Tim’s nesting pillows, stuffed animals, and blankets in with him, making sure he’s surrounded on all sides by warmth and softness. There’s a big, heavy quilt that Alfred’s left at one side of the bed, and Bruce takes the time to scent it, dragging the fabric over the scent glands on his wrists, before placing it over Tim’s curled up form and tucking him into that too. The weight will help, be soothing to the wrung out omega pup. Alfred’s even hung up a set of nesting curtains, because he is a goddamn miracle. Bruce draws them closed, making the nest as dark and closed in as possible, making the pup feel safe and burrowed in.

Tim’s scent has eased a bit, the worst of the distress soothed as Bruce carried him home in his arms. He’s stopped crying, now, and seems to be sleeping peacefully. Bruce climbs into the nest and gently eases Tim’s head into his lap. Bruce starts to pets Tim’s head, slowly carding his fingers through Tim’s thick, dark hair, gently massaging Tim’s scalp with his fingertips. The sleeping pup noses into Bruce’s lap, and Bruce smiles fondly down at him.

While he’s doing that, Bruce starts making a plan. He’s got a lot of phone calls to make.

**…**

Dick shows up a couple of hours later. He looks more than a little disheveled, like he barely stopped to pull a shirt on before running out the door, and his scent is thick with bitterness and the acrid smell of burnt food, full of the rage of an angry, protective omega. The scent only gets stronger as Bruce explains the situation, telling Dick about the state he found Tim in.

“What the fuck.” Dick stares at Bruce flatly, and Bruce meets his gaze as calmly as he can. “You’re telling me that you kidnapped a pup. From his house. While he was sleeping.”

“Yes.”

“B, what the _fuck_.” Dick brings both hands up to his face and groans loudly. “This is turning into a habit with you.”

“You would have done the same thing,” Bruce says gruffly, a tinge of alpha growl creeping into his voice. “He’s not- he was going into a panic state, Dick. I think he’s been neglected for years. If I hadn’t found him when I had-”

“Okay yes,” Dick cuts in, the smell of ashes rising in his scent. There’s pain there, too, and Bruce knows the thought of Tim going catatonic from omega distress must be at least as painful to Dick as it is to him. And for him, it’s a wrenching, twisting ache deep in his chest. “Yes, fine, I wouldn’t have been able to leave him there either, but good god, B. This isn’t like-” Dick breaks off, faltering, then takes a deep breath. “This isn’t like Jason. Or like me. Tim’s not some ownerless pup. His alpha might be a shithead, but he does have one, and if he finds out that you even _touched_ Tim, much less _kidnapped him-_ ”

“He would fight me, or have me arrested,” Bruce finishes. “And Bruce Wayne or not, I would probably be going to jail for a very, very long time.”

Dick makes an emphatic noise, waving his hands in Bruce’s general direction. “Yes, exactly, so again I ask, what the _fuck_.”

There’s a tug in Bruce’s chest at that. Dick’s concern is… touching, even wrapped up in all the anger like it is. “I have a plan.”

Dick closes his eyes and takes a long, slow inhale. Four counts in, eight counts out. And then he opens his eyes. “You’d better.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Bruce promises.

Dick hesitates for a second, but then nods. Bruce knows he must be anxious to make sure that Tim’s alright, that his own instincts must be screaming at him almost as much as Bruce’s were. Neither of them have ever handled packmates in danger well. Especially not pups.

“Go check on Tim,” Bruce says. “I’ll come join you once I’m done.”

Dick nods again, and disappears down the hallway, heading towards the bedrooms.

Bruce heads to his study and gets to work. There’s a few files he needs to send to Janet Drake.

**…**

The phone call takes slightly longer to come than Bruce expects it to. But only slightly.

Bruce answers the phone and leans back in his chair, one arm resting on his desk. “Hello, Mrs. Drake.”

“Mr. Wayne,” Janet says, in a voice like poisoned honey. “I believe we have matters to discuss.”

“Indeed we do,” Bruce replies in an easy tone. It’s not quite Brucie, but it’s certainly the businessman, the voice of a powerful man who knows exactly how many cards he holds.

“I must admit, I was quite shocked to receive your message,” Janet continues in that same syrupy voice. “How _did_ you access my omega’s private medical information, I wonder?”

The threat is extremely thinly veiled, but Bruce was expecting it.

It’s just like Janet Drake to go on the offensive even when she doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She could certainly have him arrested for having Tim in his house right now, for having possession of the medical report that Leslie filled out after she dropped by this morning. But she couldn’t do it without publicizing the content of that report and exposing the fact that she and her mate are both guilty of omega neglect. And they both know it.

It’s still a gamble, to be sure. But Bruce knows what kind of a person Janet is, and he’s almost certain he has the winning hand.

“Oh come now,” Bruce says, cheerful and friendly, keeping the confident tone of a rich alpha who knows he’s going to get exactly what he wants from this conversation. “I’m certain we can come to an agreement that will smooth over any… indiscretions, don’t you? Of _either_ party.”

“Oh, Mr. Wayne,” Janet positively coos. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

Bruce smiles. “Blackmail is such an ugly word, Mrs. Drake. I’m merely suggesting a business offer. One that would be beneficial to all parties.”

“And if I am disinclined to accept this offer?”

“You know another ugly word, Mrs. Drake? Scandal.”

Janet hums thoughtfully. “It _is_ , you know.”

Bruce continues, still just as bright and friendly, every inch the businessman. “How would your investors feel if they knew you were inclined to neglect your property, Mrs. Drake? That can’t possibly instill confidence that you’ll take good care of theirs.”

Janet laughs. “Fair play, Mr. Wayne.” She sounds almost impressed. “I’ll have the sale papers drawn up and sent to your lawyer today.”

“Wonderful,” Bruce purrs into the phone. “A pleasure doing business with you.”

Bruce hangs up the phone feeling darkly triumphant.

**…**

Bruce opens the door to Tim’s new room and is met with the wonderful intertwining smells of a happy omega and a happy omega pup. Dick and Tim and tangled up in the nest together, surrounded by stuffed animals. Tim’s still dozing, his head curled up on Dick’s chest, but Dick looks up as Bruce comes in, giving him a questioning look.

Bruce climbs into the nest, shifting pillows and stuffies so he can sit down behind Tim, wrapping a protective hand around the back of Tim’s neck in a scruff. It’s a possessive alpha gesture, and it soothes Bruce’s instincts.

“How is he?” Bruce asks quietly.

Dick strokes Tim’s back in a gentle, repetitive motion and smiles. “He’s doing alright now, I think. Such a sweet pup.”

Bruce gives a low, pleased alpha purr, petting at Tim’s head. “Yes, he is.” He looks up at Dick. “I took care of it.”

There’s a rush of relief and fierce satisfaction in Dick’s scent. “Good.”

Tim starts to squirm a bit then, rolling over in Dick’s lap and blinking his eyes open. “Dick?” Tim mumbles, confused. “What’re you-” He catches sight of Bruce then, and his eyes fly open. His scent spikes with anxiety and he starts scrambling away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t-”

Bruce and Dick reach out at the same time, grabbing hold of Tim as he thrashes, holding him down firmly in the nest. “You’re okay, Tim,” Bruce says firmly. “Stay right there.”

Tim goes limp. “I’m sorry,” Tim whispers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Bruce’s heart is breaking, and he shares a glance with Dick. Dick looks like he’s about twelve seconds from punching Jack and Janet Drake directly in the head, regardless of any deals Bruce has made. There’s a whiff of pain and anger from Dick, like ashes and vinegar, before he gets it under control, pushing it down with a deep breath. Bruce can’t say he blames him.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Bruce says, making his voice kind, but with a backing of alpha authority behind it. “You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetheart.”

“You’re okay, baby bird,” Dick says softly. He wraps his arms around and slowly, gently eases Tim back into his lap. Tim’s scent is simmering with anxiety, but he lets Dick wrap around him and pull him close. “You’re safe now, we’ve got you.”

Tim looks over at Bruce, still looking worried. “I’m not supposed to- I didn’t want- I didn’t mean to be any trouble.”

“You’re no trouble at all, sweetheart,” Bruce assures him, reaching down to push Tim’s hair back again. “You’re such a good boy, no trouble at all.”

There’s a brief flicker of joy in Tim’s scent as Bruce praises him, and his eyes flutter closed. It warms something deep in Bruce’s chest.

“So good, Timmy,” Dick murmurs, rubbing his back. “You’re our good pup, we promise.”

Tim lets out a distressed whine, looking up at Bruce, eyebrows knitted together in worry. “But I’m gonna get you in trouble.”

“No you’re not,” Bruce says. He cups the back of Tim’s head with one hand and looks him carefully in the eyes. “I took care of everything, pup. I worked it out with your parents. I’m not going to get in any trouble. And no one is going to take you away again. Not ever.”

Tim’s mouth falls open in a little round o. “You mean- you mean you bought me?” He sounds so disbelieving, so hopeful, that Bruce’s heart breaks all over again.

“That’s right, pup,” Bruce confirms, sliding his hand down to scruff the back of Tim’s neck again, firm but gentle. “It’s all taken care of, sweetheart. You’re ours now. No need to worry.”

Tim lets out a soft little keen. His scent goes wild, overwhelmed with shock and joy, and his body relaxes in Dick’s arms. “ _Oh_.”

Dick gives a soft omega purr, still rubbing soothing circles onto Tim’s back. “That’s right, baby bird.” He boops Tim’s nose with one finger. Tim blushes and smiles, wriggling away and scrunching his face up, burying his face back in Dick’s chest. Dick grins. “You’re stuck with us, little one.”

Bruce gives a low, dark alpha purr, and lays down to tuck himself behind Tim. He and Dick wrap around the little pup, sandwiching Tim between them, keeping him warm and safe. His and Dick’s purrs make a sweet chorus, filling the nest up with warm vibrations. Tim’s scent goes all relaxed and peaceful, better than Bruce has ever smelled it before.

About twenty minutes later, Tim starts to purr as well. It’s a quiet, hesitant thing at first. And then it grows, the sweet, happy purrs of a safe omega pup.

It’s the best thing Bruce has ever heard.


	3. Chapter 3

“Tim,” Bruce calls. “Come here.”

Tim’s changing into his pajamas after his post-patrol shower, in the little change room off of the cave. Alfred set out one of Tim’s favorite nightdresses out for him- it’s a light blue cotton one, and it’s all soft on Tim’s skin as he tugs it over his head. “Coming,” Tim calls back.

Bruce is sitting in his chair at the batcomputer, and the files for one of their current cases is up on the screens. On one side, there’s surveillance camera feeds of the docks, and on another monitor, an algorithm is running, numbers scrolling rapidly up the screen.

But the chair that Tim normally sits in is missing. In its place, there’s a cushion on the floor next to Bruce’s chair.

Tim stops partway across the room, hesitating.

Bruce looks back over his shoulder. “There you are. Come here, pup. Come sit.” He gestures at the cushion on the floor.

Tim obeys, taking the last few steps forward and settling himself down, sitting crosslegged on the cushion at Bruce’s feet. He shifts his nightgown so that it lays nicely, floofing out around him.

Bruce gives a quiet, pleased-sounding growl, and his scent is full of affection, of the smell that Tim’s starting to recognize as happy alpha. “Good pup.” He reaches one big, strong hand down to Tim’s neck and scruffs him, squeezing firmly.

Tim can’t help the little gasp that escapes him, or the way his eyes flutter closed as his head bows forwards. The whole world goes blurry for a second and Tim just melts, some big, indescribable feeling crashing over him like a wave. He can’t believe how good it feels to obey Bruce’s little orders, how _satisfying_ it is. How incredibly, impossibly happy it makes him when Bruce tells him he’s being good. Tim shudders, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Bruce keeps holding tightly to Tim’s neck, the touch steadying, grounding, comforting. His scent stays calm, a relaxed, gentle alpha. Tim takes a few more deep breaths, out and in. He’s not sure how much time has passed by the time he finds it voice again. “Sorry,” Tim manages to say.

“Shhhhh,” Bruce hushes him. “None of that, sweetheart. It’s a lot, isn’t it.” Tim nods. It’s just so _much_ sometimes, since he came to live in the manor. Wonderful and perfect, but so, so much. It’s overwhelming. “I know, sweetheart. It’s so much, and you’re doing so well.”

Bruce holds Tim there for a moment longer, letting him get a hold of himself. Tim takes a few more deep, controlled breaths, breathing in the soothing scent of a protective pack alpha. Then he blinks a few times, turning his head up to look at Bruce.

Bruce gives a small smile, looking down at him. “You ready, pup?”

“Yep,” Tim says.

Bruce gives a little hum, releasing Tim’s neck. He reaches across the desk and grabs a keyboard, passing it down so Tim can rest it on his knees. “Now. Why don’t you show me what you were talking about, with the sales reports?”

“Okay, so it’s like this,” Tim starts. He types a few commands into the keyboard, pulling up the quotas, launching into an explanation. This was a tricky one, but he thinks he might have found something. “So you see the reports from last year? Well I noticed this pattern.”

Bruce looks down at him, nodding along as Tim explains. There’s a proud little light in his eyes when Tim gets to the missing funds he found, the pattern of embezzlement. “Good job, Tim. That’s good work.”

Tim tips his head back so he can look up at Bruce, beaming. Tim’s excited to have cracked the case, of course he is. But hearing those words from Bruce? That’s way, way better.

**…**

Bruce is watching the security camera feed of Tim’s room.

Tim went up to sleep a while ago. Bruce is still at the computer, working on case files. Well, mostly working. But one eye is on the monitor with surveillance footage from the camera that points into Tim’s nest.

Bruce is worried about him. Well. Not _too_ worried. Tim seems to be adjusting well. He’s not used to being treated like a beloved omega pup should be, but he’s taking to it like a duck to water. He’s a little hesitant, still. A little reluctant to ask for comfort. So, Bruce makes very, very certain to offer it without having to be asked.

He thought it might be easier, considering this is the third pup he’s taken in. But Dick was a completely different sort of omega pup than Tim is. He was always exuberant, never afraid to launch himself at Bruce when he was wanting affection. And Jason was another story altogether, of course, as an alpha pup. In addition to that, he’d been deeply wary and mistrustful of Bruce at first. Jason needed plenty of space and distance, needed Bruce to wait until Jason felt comfortable coming to Bruce on his own time.

(Bruce pauses in his typing as a sharp pain shoots through his chest. He takes a breath in and then lets it out. God, it still hurts, thinking of Jason. Of how Jason was. Was, past tense. Never present tense, never again. Bruce breathes in, breathes out. He resumes typing.)

So it’s an adjustment, certainly, with Tim. Space is the _last_ thing Tim needs at this point. But Bruce is learning, adapting. They all are. It’s a slow, gradual process, but they’re getting there.

There is a problem, though. Bruce doesn’t think Tim’s had a single orgasm since coming to live with him.

It’s deeply concerning. Omegas need at least six orgasms a day for optimum health. It’s absolutely essential for their mental state, their development, their stress levels. They’re natural breeders and always have very high sex drives. When Dick was Tim’s age, he could barely keep his fingers out of his cunt for five minutes at a time- the amusing, sometimes frustrating challenges of puberty, but completely normal. But Tim hasn’t been touching himself at _all_.

Bruce isn’t certain whether this has been caused by the recent trauma of going into an acute state of omega distress and then having to suddenly change packs. If that’s the case, then it’s probably best to wait, to give Tim the time he needs to adjust.

But if this is an ongoing problem from before? Well, then. That would be another story. Given the overall despicable neglect that Tim had endured in that house, it’s hardly surprising to think that his pack had also been neglecting his sexual needs. Infuriating? Yes. It’s a horrific way to treat a young omega pup, who really ought to have a whole pack willing to help them as much as they need. But surprising? Not at this juncture. And it makes sense that Tim wouldn’t be ready to have Bruce take care of him that way yet. He still gets completely overwhelmed just from a few gentle touches, clearly unused to an alpha’s care.

But Tim hasn’t even been coming by himself. It’s a problem for a few reasons. If Tim isn’t getting the orgasms he needs, he’s going to continue experiencing omega distress and all its detrimental health effects. Bruce doesn’t know why Tim doesn’t play with his cunt like any healthy omega pup would. Someone would have to intervene, and heavily, to stop an omega pup from making themselves feel good. All the possibilities Bruce can think of, all the things that might have been done to prevent Tim from thinking he’s allowed to take care of his own needs? Every single one of them makes Bruce’s blood boil, makes him want to find Tim’s parents and show them just what he thinks of their horrific, omega-abusing ways.

There’s some movement on the monitor, and Bruce looks over. Tim’s woken up. He often wakes up in the middle of the night, sometimes several times. He seems to have persistent problems with insomnia. But this time, he’s not crawling out of his nest and stumbling towards the bathroom or pacing anxiously around his room. Tim seems to be moving in the nest, wriggling around.

Bruce switches the security feed to the central screen, and zooms the picture in. It’s dark in Tim’s room, but he can see Tim fairly clearly, surrounded by his stuffies like he always is. As Bruce looks closer, he can see that Tim isn’t wriggling, exactly. He’s lying on his stomach, his hands on the pillow next to his head. And he’s rocking up and down, pushing his hips down into the bed.

No, not the bed, Bruce notes. Onto one of his stuffed animals. Tim’s put one of the big round cats underneath his hips, and he’s grinding into it in these little motions, pushing forwards. Tim’s little face is scrunched up in concentration, eyes tightly closed, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants, rocking into the stuffie.

In the cave, Bruce lets out a long, low purr. That’s _much_ better. What a good omega pup Tim is. A good, sweet boy, playing like a good omega pup should.

Tim stops for a moment, lifting himself up on hands and knees so he can tug his nightgown up, bunching the fabric around his tummy to keep it out of the way. Then, he lowers back down and resumes humping into the cat stuffie.

Tim’s tongue starts to hang out of his mouth, just slightly, as he breathes heavily, starting to hump harder and faster into the pillow. Bruce watches as Tim’s panties start to ride up, being tugged back by all the friction. And then, Tim’s face screws up as he cries out, body going still.

Tim slumps down into the pillows of the nest, body going lax. He doesn’t pause to pull the cat stuffie out from beneath his hips or tug his nightgown back down, just tugs one of his other stuffies close, wrapping it in his arms, twisting to the side a bit so he can lay down on the pillow. As he turns, Bruce can see the pretty little wet spot on the front of Tim’s panties. Tim looks much more relaxed and sleepy now. He seems to drift off almost immediately.

Now that. That, Bruce can work with.

**…**

Tim lets out a big yawn as he heads up the stairs from the cave. It was a long night of patrol. Nothing too scary, but it turns out stakeouts are boring, stressful, and exhausting all in one. For once, Tim actually feels tired enough to sleep.

Tim gets to his room, shuts the door behind him, and goes to flop down in his nest. And then he stops in his tracks.

Resting a few feet away from the bed is a new teddy bear. It’s a really big one, maybe three feet tall. It’s got dark chocolately brown fur, and there’s a little red bow around its neck.

Tim takes a little step forward. Bruce got him a present? At least, the bear smells like Bruce. It really _really_ smells like Bruce, actually. Tim picks up the bear and takes a deep inhale, breathing in the scent. It smells so good, like pack and alpha and Bruce, rich musk and that spicy alpha undertone. Tim brushes his nose against the bear’s head, and ohhh, it’s so soft against his skin. The soft fur of the stuffed bear feels so nice, and Tim nuzzles into it some more, just enjoying the feeling.

Bruce got him a present. A real present. For _Tim_. And not just that, but it’s exactly the right kind of present. Bruce paid attention to the things Tim liked, and then got him a new present. It’s a weird thought, but definitely the good kind of weird. It makes a warm, fuzzy feeling pour over Tim.

Tim wraps his arms around the bear and pulls it into a tight hug. It’s so nice to hold. Tim loves all his stuffies, but there’s something so nice about one that’s really big, that really fills up his arms. It makes them so nice to cuddle.

Tim crawls into his nest, taking his new friend with him. He burrows down underneath the blankets and other stuffies, holding on tightly to the big bear. Tim strokes the soft fur of the bear, enjoying the way it feels between his fingers.

Tim closes his eyes and pushes his nose into the bear’s neck, breathing in deep to try to catch Bruce’s scent again. The smell of protective-alpha pack-love _my omega_ washes over him, and it’s so strong that Tim can’t help letting out a soft little keen. The scent makes him sort of dizzy, sending a rush straight to his head, and impossibly happy. It also sends a crash of warmth all over him, a funny sort of feeling Tim doesn’t really know how to describe.

Tim rolls over in the bed, taking the big bear with him, till he’s curled up on one side, the bear wrapped in his arms. He swings one leg over the bear, using the leg to pull the bear in, cuddling it closer.

Tim squirms a little. He _had_ been feeling really sleepy, but now he’s kind of fidgety. He feels a little warm, but he’s reluctant to shove off the heavy, comforting blanket to try to cool off. Tim takes another deep breath in, smelling the wonderful, comforting smell of the bear, of _Bruce_. It only makes him warmer, and Tim squirms again, tugging the bear in even tighter with his arms and his knee.

The warm, fidgety feeling starts to settle between Tim’s legs. It’s sort of like an ache, hot and almost sore but not really. Tim feels something damp in his panties, and he can feel they’re starting to get too tight, his cock filling up the front of them. Tim keeps fidgeting and squirming against the bear, rocking in these little motions, feeling the way it relieves the ache a little when he rubs up against the bear.

Soon enough, Tim’s panting, moving his hips faster, but it’s not _enough_. Tim lets go of the bear for just long enough to pull up the hem of his nightgown and pull his panties off. He pushes the bear down into the nest on its back and gets on top of it. The fur feels so good, so soft against his hard, aching cock. Tim can feel it getting sort of damp under his pussy, but it feels good there too, so soft and warm. Tim gives a little shudder and starts to move harder. It’s easier this way, with the way he can really push into the bear, and it just feels so, so good.

Tim gives another soft little keen, grabbing fistfuls of the bear’s fur as he grinds into it. Everything’s just so hot, a blur of feeling good and Tim doesn’t think he could stop moving even if he wanted to. Tim ducks his face back into the bear’s neck and lets himself be surrounded by the smell of happy-alpha, loving-alpha. Everything’s a blur, a heady, dizzying combination of soft and warm and pleasure and Bruce’s smell surrounding him, enveloping him, and then it all just- peaks, suddenly, and Tim lets out a quiet whine as everything goes white-hot and wonderful, his cock twitching against the soft fur of the big teddy bear, making it all wet and messy.

Tim collapses on top of the big bear, resting his head on the pillow next to it, breathing heavy, everything still a dull rush of pleasure. He keeps taking in deep breaths, inhaling Bruce’s soothing, comforting scent. He’s just so sleepy now, back to the tiredness from before and a nice, fuzzy, happy sort of feeling.

Tim lets out another yawn, and blinks his eyes a few times before they fall closed, feeling heavy. He’ll sleep right here, cuddled on top of the new teddy bear Bruce gave him. He’ll have to tell Bruce thank you in the morning, Tim thinks. And that’s the last thought he has before drifting off, relaxed and happy.


	4. Chapter 4

“Tim, are you ready for your checkup?” Bruce asks.

Tim’s shoulders hunch inwards, tension rising through him just at the mention of it. “Y-yeah.”

Bruce frowns, his brow furrowing. He puts one hand on Tim’s shoulder, leaning down so they’re on a level, looking into his eyes. “You know I can call Leslie, if you’d rather. Or we can take you to a clinic. Or Dick can take you to a clinic, if that would make you more comfortable.” Bruce pauses a moment, rubbing gently at Tim’s shoulder. “This is important and you do have to do it. We need to make sure you’re getting healthy. But I want you to be as safe and comfortable as you can be. Do you understand, Tim?”

Tim nods, looking down and away, feeling slightly overwhelmed by Bruce’s kind, caring eyes. “Yeah, I- I know.”

“Would you like me to make you an appointment at a clinic?” Bruce asks.

Tim hesitates and then shakes his head. “I’d rather it be you,” Tim mumbles out.

Bruce moves his hand from Tim’s shoulder to the back of his neck, and there’s a little spike of affection in his scent. “Okay, then. If that’s what would make you most comfortable.”

Tim takes a deep breath and leans back slightly, pressing into Bruce’s hand. He takes another breath and tries to make the tension go out of his shoulders. The comforting press of Bruce’s warm broad hand does help a lot. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Would you like to take one of your stuffed animals down with you?” Bruce asks. “Would it help to have something to hold onto?”

Tim blinks. “I’m not too old for that?”

There’s a brief whiff of vinegar in Bruce’s scent, so quick that Tim almost misses it before Bruce gets his scent under control. When he speaks, his voice is warm, his tone even. “No, of course you’re not too old.” Bruce brushes the side of Tim’s neck with his thumb, pressing down a little, rubbing a firm, soothing pattern into the muscle there. “I want you to feel safe, Tim.” His voice is so sincere that Tim can barely stand it, the idea still sort of alien and strange to him. Bruce wants him to feel safe. Bruce cares about his safety. He cares so much that Tim can smell it, the peppery protective-alpha pheromones drifting off of him.

“Okay,” Tim says softly, for lack of anything better to say.

Bruce gives an approving hum. “Alright, sweetheart. I want you to go fetch Avery and then meet me in the medbay. Can you do that for me?” Tim nods, and Bruce releases his grip on Tim’s neck. “Go ahead.”

Tim goes off to his room and retrieves the stuffy Bruce told him to, an old, soft dog toy, well-worn from years of love. It’s just the right size for Tim to tuck under one arm, and he does exactly that, holding Avery to his chest as he makes his way through the study, down to the cave, and into the medbay.

Once he gets in there, Bruce is waiting for him, sitting on a rolling stool next to the examination bed. His scent is all soothing-comfort, and he gives Tim a reassuring smile as he walks in. “All ready, sweetheart?”

Tim can’t help the little nervous frission that wriggles down his spine, but he nods. This is Bruce. Bruce isn’t going to hurt him or be mean to him. There’s no one Tim would rather have do this. “Ready.”

“Take a seat,” Bruce instructs, and Tim hops up onto the table, still holding Avery in one arm, legs dangling off the edge. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good pup.”

Tim can’t help the effect those words on him, and he makes a quiet little noise that would almost be a whine if he really let it go. “Really?”

Bruce reaches out a reassuring hand to Tim’s arm, giving it a gentle pet. “Really, sweetheart. You’re being so good, so brave for me.” Bruce lets his touch linger for a few minutes, and then moves away, swiveling to the side to grab something. Bruce turns back to Tim with a stethoscope in hand. “Okay, pup. Let’s get started. I’m going to listen to your heart now. I need to put this under your shirt, okay?”

Tim nods, and Bruce smiles at him, rolling forwards on the stool. “Good boy.” Bruce tugs the neck of Tim’s shirt down slightly so he can place the stethoscope directly on Tim’s chest, holding Tim still with his other hand on Tim’s shoulder. It’s a little cold. Tim shifts Avery over a little bit to give Bruce room, but keeps her close. “Breathe in for me.” Tim obeys, inhaling deeply. “And out.” Tim slowly releases the breath, blowing it out of his mouth. “That’s so good, sweetheart. Again.” Tim breathes in and out a few more times, deep and slow, as Bruce moves the stethoscope around on his chest, listening intently. Bruce gives a quiet hum and takes the stethoscope out from under Tim’s shirt, pulling it out of his own ears and setting it to the side. “That’s it, good boy. All good there.”

Tim’s starting to relax a bit. He really doesn’t like doctor’s visits, but this isn’t too bad, as long as Bruce keeps explaining everything in that calm, even tone, radiating pack-alpha-love and comfort through his scent.

Bruce takes out a blood pressure cuff. “I’m going to wrap this around your arm now, pup. It should be tight, but it shouldn’t hurt.”

“Okay,” Tim says, holding his arm out.

Bruce gives a gentle, pleased little purr. “Good pup.” The cuff is sort of uncomfortable, but it doesn’t last very long. Bruce takes Tim’s blood pressure, writing it down, unwraps the cuff and then takes Tim’s temperature using one of those ear thermometers. He writes that down too, and then swivels over to the table. He comes back with one of those really little flashlights. “Okay, I need to take a look at your throat now, sweetheart. Can you open your mouth for me? Nice and wide.”

Tim opens his mouth as wide as he can, letting his tongue hang out slightly. Bruce gives another purr, and a reassuring pat on Tim’s knee. “That’s exactly right, good pup.” Bruce shines the flashlight into Tim’s mouth and peers in for a moment. “Tim, I need to hold your tongue out of the way so I can see your throat better. I’m going to use one finger to press it down. Do you understand?”

Tim tugs Avery a bit closer to his side, but he nods, mouth still open.

“Good pup,” Bruce says softly. He places one of his fingers on Tim’s tongue and presses down gently, then directs the flashlight into Tim’s mouth again and peers in. Tim’s distracted by the taste of Bruce’s finger. It tastes like Bruce, like alpha musk and cedarwood, and the texture of Bruce’s fingerpad is rough on Tim’s tongue. “That’s a good boy.” Bruce switches the flashlight off and sets it to the side, but leaves his finger right where it is. “Close your mouth for me now, pup.”

Tim hesitantly closes his mouth around Bruce’s finger, and he’s rewarded with a deep, low alpha purr from Bruce. Bruce puts his other hand on the back of Tim’s head and rubs gently at his scalp. He leaves it there for a long moment, and Tim almost involuntarily starts sucking on it. It’s really hard not to, when there’s something big in his mouth. But Bruce doesn’t get angry with him, just continues giving him scritches on his head and lets out another dark alpha purr. “That’s a good omega. Keep going, sweetheart.”

Tim’s not quite sure what Bruce means, but he suckles on Bruce’s finger some more. It really does feel nice, getting something to suck on. Tim brings Avery into his chest, and laps his tongue at Bruce’s finger. Bruce starts to move his finger, slowly and carefully, rubbing it back and forth on Tim’s tongue. It feels nice, almost like he’s petting Tim’s tongue, and Tim melts into Bruce’s hands. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Bruce purrs again. “That’s just right, sweetheart. Good boy.” He withdraws his finger from Tim’s mouth and releases his head. “I need to check your chest now, sweetheart. Can you take your shirt off for me?”

“Okay,” Tim whispers. He sets Avery down next to him and pulls his shirt up and over his head, setting that down next to him too. He expects the cave to be cold with his shirt off, but it’s actually pretty warm in the medbay. Bruce must have turned a heater on for this very reason.

“I’m going to examine your chest now,” Bruce says. “I’ll need to touch you.” A few seconds pass before Tim realizes that Bruce is waiting for him to respond.

“Okay,’ Tim says, reaching one hand down and tangling his fingers in Avery’s fur.

Bruce brings one hand up and under one side of Tim’s chest, cupping at the slight curve there. He presses in gently with a few fingertips, then makes a circle all the way around Tim’s nipple, pressing gently then releasing as he goes. He does the same on the other side, carefully checking the breast tissue. “Those look just fine, sweetheart. Nothing wrong there.”

Tim gives a small smile. “Well that’s good.”

Bruce smiles gently back at him and reaches up to give Tim a gentle pat on the head. “Yes, it is. I’m going to check the nipples now.” Tim nods, and Bruce reaches for one of Tim’s nipples, holding it gently between his thumb and forefinger. Then, Bruce starts to move his fingers, rolling Tim’s nipple between them.

Tim gives a little gasp, squeezing on tighter to Avery with one hand. Bruce looks up at him, concerned. “Did that hurt?”

Tim shakes his head. “No, it just- um. I.”

Bruce keeps looking up at him, and starts moving his fingers again, making Tim let out a shaky breath of air. His nipple has responded under Bruce’s touch, perking up and getting hard. Bruce squeezes a bit more and Tim lets out another gasp. It feels _good_ , sending a little spark of heat down his spine.

Bruce gives another dark purr, his scent full of pleased-alpha. “That feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart.”

Tim blushes and nods. “Y-yeah.”

Bruce gives another reassuring smile, then moves his hand over to the other nipple, doing the same thing. Tim squirms under the sensation. “It’s supposed to, sweetheart.” Bruce presses down a little harder, gently pinching Tim’s nipple, then gives it a few soft tugs. Tim brings one hand up to his mouth, biting his fist so he doesn’t make a noise. _Oh_ , that feels so good. Why does that feel so good? It makes Tim feel all hot and fidgety, makes him want Bruce to keep touching him like that, keep pinching at his nipples. “You’re not quite old enough to milk, just yet. But when you do, that’s going to feel like this, but even better.”

Tim swallows, moving his hand away from his mouth a little so he can speak. “Really?”

“Really, sweetheart,” Bruce says, giving him that same indulgent alpha smile. He gives Tim’s nipple one more tug and then releases it, carding his fingers through Tim’s hair again, giving him gentle pets. “Okay, sweetheart. I need you to take off your skirt and panties for me. Do you want to put your shirt back on?”

Tim swallows nervously. “Um. Yeah, I think so.”

Bruce nods, scent still comforting and gentle, and pets Tim’s head again. He reaches down to the examination bed and pulls out two little platforms, one on each side, almost at the same level of the table. “Okay, sweetheart. Put your shirt back on, take your skirt and panties off, and put your feet up on these. Can you do that for me?”

Tim nods nervously, and Bruce gives him another gentle pet. “That’s a good pup.”

Bruce rolls over to the table, and Tim is sort of relieved that Bruce isn’t watching him do this. He grabs his shirt, turns it the right way out again, and tugs it back on over his head. Then, he stands up to tug his skirt and panties off, setting them next to him on the exam table. Tim hops back up onto the table, and then hesitates. One foot on each side. So like this? He carefully places one foot on each of the little footrest platforms. It’s not uncomfortable, but it does spread his legs open wide, making him feel exposed and vulnerable.

Bruce rolls the stool back over. “What a good boy.” He rubs gently at one of Tim’s knees. Tim can’t deny that the praise and the gentle touch help, make him feel better. “Here, now, lie down for me” Bruce guides Tim to lay flat on his back, then takes Avery and sets her on Tim’s chest. Tim wraps his arms around the toy, hugging her close. Bruce rolls back down to the other end of the table, settling himself between Tim’s legs.

“So pretty, baby,” Bruce says softly. Tim blushes hard and squirms a little. “I mean it, sweetheart. You’re a perfect little omega, so pretty.”

“R-really?” Tim asks before he can stop himself, blurting out the question.

Bruce makes a low alpha noise at that. “Yes, sweetheart. You’re such a good omega, and so pretty. Such a good boy.”

A soft, high noise escapes Tim at that. It makes him feel even warmer, makes him want to squirm on the table.

“I’m going to touch you now, sweetheart,” Bruce says. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay,” Tim says quietly, clutching Avery tighter. “Promise?”

There’s a tinge of angry vinegar in Bruce’s scent again, but Bruce takes a deep breath, lets it out, and it’s replaced by protectiveness and comfort, gentle and sweet. “I promise.” Bruce reaches up and takes one of Tim’s arms, tugging it down so that Tim’s hand rests gently on Bruce’s wrist. “Here, pup. You keep your hand right there. And if anything starts to hurt, you tap out for me, so I know. Can you do that for me?” Tim nods. “Show me.”

Tim taps Bruce’s wrist twice, firmly. Bruce makes a pleased noise. “Good pup. And when will you do that?”

“If anything hurts,” Tim mumbles, bringing Avery up to his face.

Bruce nods. “That’s right, pup. This shouldn’t hurt, sweetheart. I’m going to be very gentle.” Bruce moves his hand closer to Tim’s privates, and Tim’s hand, resting lightly on top of Bruce’s wrist, comes along for the ride. “I’m going to check your penis first. We need to make sure it’s developing properly.” Bruce takes Tim’s penis in his hand, and Tim is struck by how tiny it is compared to Bruce’s giant hand. It completely disappears behind Bruce’s palm. Bruce gently move Tim’s cocklet around, carefully examining it on all sides. Then, he starts moving his thumb in a line, pressing gently over Tim’s penis, methodically checking every part of it.

Tim gives a little shiver. It doesn’t hurt or feel bad. Bruce said it wouldn’t, and it doesn’t. It’s still strange, having someone else touch Tim’s cocklet. But not bad-strange. More warm-strange. The kind of strange that has Tim fighting to stay still on the table.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” Bruce murmurs. He releases Tim’s cocklet, and Tim realizes that it’s gotten sort of hard, starting to fill up. Tim blushes furiously when he notices, burying his face in Avery.

“Shhhhh,” Bruce hushes him, reaching up to cradle the side of Tim’s face. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t be embarrassed about that. You’re being such a good omega pup. It’s only natural.”

“You’re not.” Tim bites his lip nervously. “I’m not in trouble?”

“Never,” Bruce says immediately. “Not for that, pup. That’s your body being a good omega for me. You never, ever have to worry about that.”

“O-okay,” Tim says shakily. Bruce takes one of Tim’s hands in his own and squeezes it gently. He and rolls the stool over to the side so he can get closer to Tim. Bruce leans down to brush his forehead against Tim’s, covering him in comforting, soothing pack-alpha scent. Tim nuzzles back against him gratefully, holding on tightly to Bruce’s hand, his other arm still tucked around Avery, and takes a few long, deep breaths.

Bruce presses a soft kiss to Tim’s forehead. “Can I keep going, pup?”

Tim squirms a little under Bruce’s gaze. He’s still got his feet on those weird footrests and he feels so… _naked_ , for lack of a less obvious word. He still feels all warm and fidgety, and his little cock is lying hard against his stomach, his pussy feeling all hot and achey. “Is there much more left?”

“I need to check your vagina and your womb,” Bruce tells him, rubbing gently at Tim’s hand with his thumb. “We need to make sure all your omega parts are working properly. And then you can be done.”

Tim nods. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Bruce murmurs. He presses another kiss to Tim’s forehead, then lets go of Tim’s hand so he can roll back between Tim’s legs. Bruce reaches back over to the side table and picks a weird-looking metal thing. “Do you know what this is?” Tim shakes his head. “This is a speculum. It’s to hold your vagina open, so that I can get a good look at your cervix.”

Tim’s eyes go wide. “That’s. That’s going to go inside me?” His voice comes out in a scared little squeak. “But it’s so _big_.”

Bruce rubs his other hand against Tim’s inner thigh. “It’s not going to hurt, sweetheart. See?” He holds the speculum up in front of his fingers. “Not much bigger than my finger.”

Bruce has really, really big fingers, but Tim doesn’t say that. Tim’s never put _anything_ inside his pussy, but he doesn’t say that either.

“I’m going to touch you with my hand first,” Bruce tells him. “I’ll make sure you’re ready before it goes in.”

Tim gives a little nod and draws Avery back into his chest. Bruce takes Tim’s hand again, lightly floating it on the back of Bruce’s own hand, so Tim can feel where Bruce’s hand is going. In his other hand, Bruce takes a small bottle and drizzles some liquid over his fingertips. “Okay, pup. I’m going to touch you now. This might be a little bit cold.” Bruce touches Tim’s vulva then, and starts to trace a line up one side, and then down the other, pressing around it gently, checking every part of Tim’s labia to make sure it’s okay. The thick liquid on his fingers is a little bit cold at first, but it warms up pretty quickly against Tim’s vulva.

“That’s a good pup,” Bruce murmurs, still petting the inside of Tim’s thigh with his other hand. “So good, sweetheart. I’m going to check inside of your vagina now. Stay relaxed for me.”

Tim nods and does his best to stay relaxed. Bruce’s comforting alpha scent helps a lot with that. So does his gentle hand on Tim’s leg, and his calm, steady voice. The very tip of Bruce’s finger slips into the entrance of Tim’s hole. And then he pushes it slowly, steadily forwards.

Tim gives a soft little keen. It’s easier than he would have expected, taking Bruce’s big finger inside. It also feels really, really wet down there, and Tim wonders how much of that is the lube on Bruce’s fingers and how much of it is _him_.

“So good, pup,” Bruce says softly. “Does that hurt?” Tim shakes his head. This doesn’t hurt either. It feels sort of… full. Nice and full, actually. Bruce hums, pleased. “Good. What a good omega, stay just like that for me.”

Bruce pushes his finger deeper, till it bumps up against something. He draws it out a little bit, then pushes it in all the way again. It slides easily, everything all wet around Bruce’s finger. Tim is surprised by how easily it goes. The warm, fuzzy feeling is back, surrounded by Bruce’s scent.

The pad of Bruce’s finger pushes against- against _something_ , and Tim can’t help the high-pitched noise that escapes him, though he tries to muffle it in Avery’s fur.

Bruce purrs gently. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make noise if you need to.” He rocks his finger a few more times, sliding it in and out of Tim’s pussy with a wet, messy noise. Tim’s hand is still floating lightly above, fingertips touching Bruce’s wrist, and it moves gently with Bruce’s hand. Then, Bruce’s finger goes still. “I need to see if your muscles are working properly, sweetheart. Can you squeeze down for me?”

Tim bites his lip and tries to squeeze his pussy around Bruce’s finger. It all sort of- clenches, getting tighter on Bruce’s finger, and then releases after a second. His cocklet is still sort of hard, and it twitches against Tim’s stomach.

“Good omega,” Bruce rumbles, pleased. “Good boy. Working just fine.” Bruce slowly, slowly slides his finger out. Tim’s surprised by the way he feels sort of empty, afterwards. Like he’s lost something, without Bruce’s finger in him. Bruce moves his hand out of contact with Tim’s for a moment, so he can pick up the speculum and rub more lube all over it. Then he places Tim’s hand back, just on his wrist, and positions the speculum at Tim’s entrance. “I’m going to slide it in now, sweetheart. You tap if you feel anything pinch or hurt, you understand?”

Tim nods, still carefully watching Bruce’s hand as it moves, feeling it move underneath his own fingertips. The speculum feels cold against Tim’s entrance. And then Bruce slowly, gently pushes it forwards, and Tim lets out a little whimper. It might not be much bigger than Bruce’s finger, but it’s much harder, the metal cold and unyielding. It slides deeper, deeper, till it bumps up against something in Tim’s stomach and can’t go any farther.

“What a good pup,” Bruce says gently. “You took that so well.” He pets softly at Tim’s leg again. “I’m going to open it up now, sweetheart. Stay relaxed for me.”

Bruce starts to do something with the speculum, and Tim lets out a little gasp as he feels it getting bigger, stretching at his tiny little hole. Tim gives a nervous whimper, but Bruce only clicks it open once, twice, before he stops.

“There you go, baby,” Bruce purrs. “We’ll stop there for now, sweetheart. How does that feel?”

Tim squirms against the exam table, nearly crushing Avery in the crook of his elbow. “Feels- feels so _big_.”

Bruce gives another comforting, dark alpha purr. He picks Tim’s hand up off of where it’s resting on Bruce’s wrist and moves it back up to Tim’s chest. Tim tucks that arm in close to his chest with the other one. Bruce slides a hand under the hem of Tim’s shirt, onto Tim’s stomach, palm down. He moves it underneath Tim’s little cock (which is still really, really hard, which makes Tim flush all over again) and presses down gently. “Time to check your womb, sweetheart.” He presses the fingers down in firm little circular motions that Tim’s coming to recognize, all over that area where his womb is. Then Bruce lays his palm flat again, a soothing weight there. “So good. Such a good omega for me. You’re doing so well, pup.”

Tim lets out a strangled, choked noise at that, squirming on the table. It’s just so _much_ , Bruce’s words, his praise, the big metal thing inside of him. But squirm as he might, Tim can’t get away from it, and it’s still there inside of him, holding him open.

“Shhhhh,” Bruce hushes, patting Tim’s side gently. “You’re being so good, sweetheart. We’re almost done.” Bruce takes his hand away and grabs the tiny little flashlight off the table again. He switches it on and points it right at Tim’s hole, bending down really, really close to Tim’s vulva so he can see. “There we are. I’m just checking your cervix now, making sure everything looks healthy.” Bruce has one hand resting on Tim’s thigh again, and Tim suddenly reaches down and grabs it.

Bruce looks up at him, and Tim blinks, realizing he just interrupted. “Sorry, I-” Tim starts, but Bruce cuts him off.

“Don’t be sorry, pup, you’re just fine,” Bruce says soothingly. He twists his hand around so he can hold onto Tim’s hand too, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. “There you are. Hold on just like that, okay? I just need to take one more look.” Tim nods, and Bruce bends back down, shining the flashlight into Tim’s pussy, looking closely and intensely at it in a way that makes Tim want to squirm under the intensity of Bruce’s gaze.

Bruce sits up, clicks the flashlight off, and sets it down on the table. “All done, sweetheart. You did so well for me.”

Tim gives a tiny little keen. “Really?”

Bruce squeezes his hand again. “Really.” Bruce reaches for the speculum again. Something clicks, then clicks again, and it goes back to feeling a little bit smaller. Slowly, gently, Bruce starts to slide it out of Tim’s pussy. Tim can’t help the little gasp he gives as the speculum pulls free, dripping liquid, and Bruce sets it on the side table with a click.

Tim squirms against the exam table, grabbing a fistful of Avery’s fur with one hand, just to have something to keep his hands occupied. He just feels so _empty_ without the big speculum stretching him open, and it feels funny, like an itch he can’t scratch. And on top of that, his cock’s still all hard, leaking slick out of the tip, making a little wet spot on his shirt.

Bruce is still seated in between Tim’s legs, looking up at him. “Are you alright, pup?”

Tim nods, giving another little wriggle. “Mmmhmm. I just. Um.” Tim squirms again, flushing underneath Bruce’s gaze.

“Tim,” Bruce asks gently. “Do you want alpha’s help? Or do you want to take care of it yourself?”

Tim makes an embarrassed noise, squeezing his eyes shut. Bruce reaches up to stroke his side again. “I don’t- Sorry. I don’t mean to be any trouble. Sorry.”

Bruce gives a dark little growl. “You’re never any trouble.” Tim feels something at his hole again, and Bruce’s finger pushes back inside of him. Tim gives a low moan of relief. It just feels so good, being full again, having Bruce’s big finger in his pussy. Bruce starts to rock his finger and Tim positively keens, clutching on tight to Avery. “Let alpha take care of you, sweetheart. I want to, I promise. Let alpha help.”

Tim whines, then, the noise finally ripping its way out of him as he rocks onto Bruce’s finger. “Please- please-”

Bruce’s other hand wraps around Tim’s cocklet then, completely enveloping it in warmth. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

It’s all just too much, Bruce’s big finger inside his pussy, the feeling of his big, rough hand on Tim’s cocklet, and Tim gives another helpless whine as he comes almost immediately, clenching down over and over again on Bruce’s finger, his cocklet spraying all over Bruce’s hand.

Bruce gives a deep, low, satisfied rumble. “Oh, what a good omega. So good for me, sweetheart. Always such a good pup for alpha.”

Tim slumps back against the table, breathing heavily, mind still all hazy from pleasure. Bruce holds like that for a moment and then slowly, gently works his finger out of Tim’s pussy. Tim feels a soft, damp cloth wiping him down, and the heavy, grounding feeling of Bruce’s warm hand on his leg. He feels arms lifting his legs up off the footrests, setting them back down gently so that they’re hanging off the chair again.

When Tim finally opens his eyes, Bruce is sitting next to him, watching him with a fond expression, his scent all full of proud-alpha. “You did so well today, Tim.”

Tim shivers. It’s so good to hear that. “Thank you,” Tim says softly.

Bruce smiles. “You’re very welcome, pup.” He reaches over to card his fingers through Tim’s hair, and Tim leans into the lovely touch, still feeling all hazy and lovely. “Get dressed now, sweetheart. It’s time to go upstairs.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it! <3


End file.
